DISCLAIMER: This story is to be posted only on Free Erotic Story Sites and depicts same sex erotic material involving a few horny students, their very reluctant principal and the school's elderly but virile maintenance engineer, with some slapstick, tickling and mild bondage thrown in for good measure. So, if this sort of stuff upsets you, by all means, get the hell out of here NOW. All of the characters here are portrayed by imaginary actors over twenty-one years of age and no school administrators were actually harmed during the writing of this story. Besides, these are only imaginary images playing inside your head, so just suspend your disbelief and enjoy.
Principal Chuck Bugher sat frozen by shock behind his desk after hearing First Year Student Sylvester Rollins' damning accusations against some fellow students. The student had requested an afterschool meeting with the hard-nosed principal, and Bugher believed it was just another grievance from the student body, whining again about the new stricter rules he had implemented. But what the boy had to say came way beyond the furthest reaches of left field, and if true, would create a scandal of such disastrous proportion that it could possibly threaten his position as the newly hired principal of James Wellington Academy, a private Arts school for gifted boys.
"Now, let me get this straight," he said as his numbing disbelief from hearing the boy's story subsided. He leaned forward, his elbows on his desk, his fingers forming a tight steeple. "You mean to tell me that there are boys engaging in...in sexual practices with each other and it's taking place here--on school property?"
Sylvester, standing in front of the principal's desk and tring not to wilt under the intense, angry glare of Mr. Bugher's icy steel gray eyes, nodded quickly.
"Uh huh, eh, I mean yes sir," he answered, remembering Principal Bugher's rules about the boys using only correct English and not slang while in the presence of adults.
"Just how long has this been going on? And where in heaven's name is it taking place? Who is behind this disgrace--give me details son!"
Sylvester lowered his eyes and shifted his weight from side to side, his hands clasped tightly behind his back.
"Well," he began with a mumble, "Ken Collins, Dave Mans-"
"Damn it, speak up boy! You're the one who came to me with this evil information, so let's not have any reluctance on your part now!"
"Ken Collins, Dave Manson, Willie Smitts," Sylvester answered louder, forcing his hands to his sides and facing Principal Bugher's gaze. "They're the ring leaders; I mean, they came up with the idea and see over everything, but there are other guys who participate in the session."
"The what?"
"That's what Ken likes to call it, the session. He says that there's nothing more relaxing than doing sex: blow jobs, hand jobs, whatever--it's a real neat way for us to get some relief from the pressures of dealing with all the new restrictions here at Wellington because since you were hir--" Sylvester hesitated and quickly looked away from the man.
Bugher took off his black horn-rimmed glasses, placing them on his desk. He slowly sat back in his chair, running a large hairy hand briskly over his short gray crew-cut a few times, a cold, half smile on his pock-marked face.
"Go on son, finish it--since I was what--hired as the new principal?"
Sylvester nervously played with the tops of his school uniform trouser pockets, tring to avoid revealing to Mr. Bugher that most of the students and some of the teachers really couldn't stand him or his overly militaristic rules and regulations for establishing discipline and order at a school whose student body never saw itself with a disciplinary problem--Wellington was cool, a small school with a strong emphasis on fine arts after all; it was not some correctional institution for delinquent teenage boys.
Bugher pushed himself away from his desk and stood up, the knot of his red tie pulled down from his loosen collar, his small round paunch stretching the buttons of his tight discount department store white dress shirt which sagged a bit over the big silver buckle of his wide, black leather belt. He moved around to the front and sat on the edge of his desk, one leg raised slightly off the floor to show a sliver of hairy white skin between the cuffs of his too short pant leg and the top of his drooping black wool socks. Sylvester stepped back a pace.
"Hey, it's all right, I've got a pretty good idea of what many of the students truly think of me," he said, still smiling coolly, folding his arms across his chest.
"Mr. Ransom ran this place like he was a cuddly, absent-minded uncle and all of you his own personal, precocious little nephews who he catered to because he believed you were all gifted and needed to be pampered to bring out the best in each of you have to offer. Well, he's out of the picture now, and he's not coming back, so get this into your head: I'm not your uncle, your daddy and I'm sure as heck not here to be anyone's friend. I have a job to do and for the last five weeks that's just what I've done. I've brought order and efficiency to an aging, nearly obsolete three grade institution on the brink of having its doors closed forever. So, as much as everyone here may not want to face it, playtime son is over."
Bugher stood up, sliding his fingers down the top of his light brown polyester pants, letting his thumbs grace the metal of his belt buckle and cocking his left leg.
"I'm here to prepare a bunch of soft, artsy fartsy momma boys for the realities of adult life," he continued, "How one becomes a real man, through honest work and tough challenges, not from learning how to play the cello, understand obtuse poetry or paint pretty pictures."
"Yes sir," Sylvester answered weakly. "It's just that...see, your, eh, changes, they...well--we all liked learning about the Humanities, sir, and now, not being able to see the movies we like, not able to read certain books anymore, we're even denied taking music and art classes if we don't excel in your phys. ed. program...it's, well it's just that we wouldn't be here at Wellington, we'd be enrolled in a regular public school if we had been interested at all in the stuff you think is so important--Sir!"
Bugher leaned in towards Sylvester who took another step back from the tall, imposing principal.
"Sooo, you're telling me because I'm so much harder on you boys than the last principal, things are now just so darn stressful because I simply demand more from all of you, that it's my fault and I'm the reason why those little perverts are having these homosexual gatherings?" Bugher shook his head and growled. "Collins, Manson, Smitts--those little delinquents have been nothing but thorns in my side from day one. But if what you've told me is true, my school will finally be rid of those trouble making rowdies and anyone else involved in their sick hijinks!"
Bugher suddenly eyed the boy suspiciously.
"And Mr. Rollins, just why are you informing on your fellow classmates? How do you know about this activity?"
Sylvester shuffled about, looking down at his feet. Then he slowly raised his head up, a pained look on his face as he looked the principal in the eyes.
"Ken said that for me to belong to the group since this is my first year here, I had--I had to suck his...to suck him off! A-and after I made myself do it, he and the other guys just laughed at me, said I was lousy and couldn't do it right, and I would never be part of the group! So...so the heck with them all! A-and why should I have to do such disgusting things like that just to belong anyway?"
Bugher, fired up by the boy's confession, stepped swiftly back behind his desk, picked up his glasses and put them on. Then grabbing his suit coat off the back of his swivel chair, he looked at his watch, slid on the coat and paused, giving Sylvester a hard stare.
"You said this is just around the time this perversion happens," he said putting his hands on his hips. "Well, I want you to show me exactly there it all takes place."
"Umm, are you sure you really want to go there now sir?"
Bugher stepped forward to tower over Sylvester and stared down at the teenager over the rim of his glasses. Looking up into the man's no-nonsense face, Sylvester swallowed loudly, then led the Principal out of his office.
"Just follow me Mr. Bugher," Sylvester said. And while the principal began to form a plan in his mind on how to best deal with any students caught in the filthy act, he failed to see the mischievous smile on Sylvester's pimply face as they headed down the hall towards the stairwell.
The stairwell led down to the first level rear exit of the Administration Building. They walked silently across the quadrangle in the waning light of the mid-November afternoon, the sun setting behind the roof of the west dormitory wing, casting long shadows across the courtyard. Bugher realized Sylvester was taking him towards a small, squat structure which was not connected to the rest of the school, Building E, where the janitor's quarters and miscellaneous storage rooms were located. The building was off limits to students unless they had permission from the staff. If anyone was in any position to be aware of any unusual activity going on, it would have been Joe Simmons, the grounds-keeper. Yet the old relic has never reported anything out of the ordinary to him. Bugher debated with himself often over whether or not he should get rid of the doddering old fool, but if this sinful practice was indeed going on and his janitor never bothered to inform him or the staff, then the offending boys would not be the only ones severely punished before this day was done!
As they approached the building's door, Bugher turned to the student and asked: "Mr. Rollins, since this door is always locked, and with Mr. Simmons and I having the only set of keys, just how--"
Bugher stopped as Sylvester flashed a key. "Ken made a copy!" Sylvester said, smiling at the principal while inserting the key. He watched shock and disapproval scrunch Bugher's face into a scowl of anger and his own smile fled from his lips as he unlocked the heavy door. The man grabbed the boy's shoulder as the door swung open and Sylvester reluctantly dropped the key into the principal's outstretched hand.
"I will get to the bottom of this," Bugher said, dropping the key into his suit coat pocket. "And believe me, heads are going to roll!"
Down pass the short hallway, which had two doors on each side, labeled storage and supplies, and off to the right was a stairwell leading towards the building's basement. Sylvester motioned for the principal to proceed quietly as muffled voices could be heard coming from below. Eight steps led down to a small landing where stood several small book cases and metal storage racks full of thick, dusty books and miscellaneous supplies. Another short series of steps led from the landing where more books and papers were stacked against a wall to a door, the upper part of which was made of marbled glass with J-A-N-I-T-O-R stenciled upon the surface in bold letters. Bugher could make out vague shapes moving on the other side and heard laughter and excited voices.
Sylvester moved forward and lost his footing on the stairs, catching himself with the railing, but not before bumping against a pile of books, sending them crashing loudly to the floor. Hoping that the boy's clumsiness had not destroyed his element of surprise, Bugher grabbed Sylvester and placed a finger against his lips indicating for him to be still.
For a moment there was silence from the other side of the door. Then slowly, the voices started up again, this time a bit more subdued. Bugher stepped in front of Sylvester, who was hanging back looking down at his feet, somewhat chagrined. The principal tip toed over to the door, gently placing his left ear against the glass while he grasped the door knob, checking to see if the door was locked. As he turned the knob, slowly opening the door by a crack, Bugher suddenly felt himself pushed hard from behind, knocking open the door and falling flat upon his face into the room. The wind momentarily knocked out of him, the man managed to sluggishly raise himself up onto his hands and knees, staring up at the smirking teenage faces of Collins, Manson, Smitts and five other boys whose names had for the moment escaped him, all of them totally naked and standing around the living quarters of Simmons the old janitor, who had his gray work shirt completely unbuttoned, his chest a forest of long white hair. His work pants and underwear were pooled around his ankles, his big fist jerking hard on a thick, heavily veined, erect penis, below which hung a set of low, white fur-covered testicles.
Ken Collins, tall, slender, his short brown hair parted on the right side of his head with a whisper of a thin mustache growing on his thin, upper lip stepped forward.
"Well, hi there Principal Booger," he said smiling down at the startled man who was still in shock from taking in the graphic scene of debauchery staged before him. "I'm so glad Sly was able to encourage you to join our little session in stress management! And congratulations Sly for carrying out your assignment like a real pro. Whatever you said to get him here obviously worked , so you are now officially the newest member to the session!"
Bugher, finally able to gather his thoughts together, stood up on his knees, adjusted his glasses and brought his hands up to his hips.
"Why, I've never seen such--you, you disgusting little perverts! Just what in sam hill is going on? And YOU, Simmons! Here--with these--these naked boys? Mark my words, man--I'll see to it that you get a hundred years under the prison for this abomination you child mol--"
But Bugher never got a chance to complete his threat, because at that very moment, Sylvester crept up from behind, carrying the Annotated Unabridged Works Of William Shakespeare in his hands and brought the humungous tome down hard onto the top of the principal's flat, gray crew-cut head.
There was a loud WHUAPPP! Bugher went silent; then a lopsided grin slid across his craggy face as his bugged out eyes slowly crossed behind his glasses. His arms fell limply to his sides, his head tilted to the right, and he swayed, sitting back on his heels for a few moments before Sylvester touched his back with the tip of his outstretched finger, toppling the dazed principal forward onto the carpeted floor, while off somewhere in the room a coo-coo clock on the wall sounded, ushering Chuck Bugher into soft unconsciousness while also announcing the arrival of five p.m. and the beginning of another session at James Wellington Academy.
When Bugher came too, the first thing he noticed was that he was laying on a small bed...the second thing was that he found himself completely naked.
"Oh--my--Lord...W-What's going on--" he stammered and tried to move his arms and legs; and that's when he discovered the third thing--his arms and legs had been duct-taped to the railings of the head and footboard of an old fashioned single bed, and he was tightly secured, spread-eagle and surrounded by Collins and the others, still naked, all with their hands behind their backs. Old man Simmons was there as well, also naked, his thin body showing surprisingly good muscle tone for a man his age.
Bugher, suddenly realizing his helplessness at the hands of these incorrigible students, tried to make his voice ring with authority as he made eye contact with Collins.
"Uh--you know that by assaulting and tying me up like this, you will face a severely harsh punishment...all of you will," he said, turning to gaze at the other boys as they crowded around the bed. "B-but if you stop this right now, the only punishment you will face is expulsion, not criminal charges--that is if you release me this instant."
Simmons, who was at the foot of the bed standing next to Sylvester, waved his arm as if he was a student tring to get the attention of his teacher.
"Ooh! Ooh! And what about me, the Child Molester? You gonna just throw an old man out into the cold?" he asked, a contrite look upon his age-lined, weathered face.
Bugher's eyes narrowed, flashing anger as he glared at the janitor in disgust.
"I'll see to it that they lock you away until you rot, you sick pervert!" Bugher hissed at the man as he strained against his bonds.
A frosty smile crossed Simmons' face as he stared back hard at the restrained principal.
"Oh gee," he said. "And me just one year away from retiring too."
Collins dropped something to the floor, sat on the bed and leaned in close towards Bugher.
"But Principal Booger, Mr. Simmons is a dear, dear friend of ours and we've taught each other so much! We can't let you just toss him out like yesterday's garbage, not when all he has done is enjoy himself using our unique relaxation techniques, isn't that right guys?"
A chorus of: "Yeah, that's right," and "Just chill out Mr. Bugher," and "It's all just good fun," rang out from the youths.
"Y-you boys don't know what you're saying," Bugher answered, amazed by their defense of Simmons and of their own shameful practices. "It's obvious to me that you all have been manipulated by this evil man whose only using you for his own sexual gratification! This isn't healthy behavior boys; surely you must realize how harmful this all is!"
"You dumb asshole," Simmons said. "Hell, I didn't manipulate nothing! It was these boys who helped me see the light, infact right here on this same bed...showed me just, eh, how to chill out and go with the flow, so to speak."
"Nonsense!" Bugher spat back at him. "How could a bunch of teenage boys seduce a normal, grown man into participating in this deviant behavior?"
Collins raised himself from the bed, bending over to retrieve what he had dropped on the floor. Bugher saw that it resembled a long handle feather duster, with only three or so very large feathers sticking from its base.
"Well Mr. Booger, if you really want to know, well by all means, let us show you exactly how it is done; shall we guys?"
Everyone pulled similar looking objects from behind their backs and advanced upon the bound principal.
A worried look came into Bugher's eyes as he suddenly realized what was about to happen.
"N-now boys," he stuttered, "You really don't plan tooooo--Ha!Ha!Ha!Ha!Ha!Ha!Ha!Ha!S-S-stop, oh godohgod!Nooo!Ohhh!Heee!Heee!S-stop!No!No!Ha!Ha!Ha!Ha!Ha!Ha!Ha!Ha!"
Bugher roared as the boys tickled his body mercilessly with their feathers. The bed springs creaked loudly as the principal bounced up and down on the bed, rocking it as wild laughter erupted from his mouth. The boys tickled him everywhere: his armpits, his gray matted chest and little round belly, his thighs, calves, between his legs, and ofcourse his feet. Infact Simmons was running his tongue all over Bugher's big right foot while Sylvester used his fingers to dance across the sole and toes of his left one.
The minutes ticked away and Bugher thought the tickling would never end. Tears flowed from his eyes and his throat was raw; it was getting difficult for him to catch his breath from all the laughing, and yet the feathers continued caressing his body until he thought that he would either go totally insane or pass out from the persistent tickle torture.
Finally, Collins said, "Ok guys, I believe he's had enough--for now. Let's give him a bit of a breather before we begin the next session."
Bugher lay whimpering on the bed, his laughter slowly subsiding. Through his confused, mental haze, he made out the clock coo-cooing seven times; he also wondered if he had heard correctly, that the Collins boy said something about letting him rest before beginning another session? God No, he thought, he wouldn't be able to take anymore of this! He had to do something and do it fast!
"Heeheeuhhhh," he uttered, tring to catch his breath. His face was flushed, his heart pounded like a hammer in his chest, and his body was drenched in sweat. He trembled a bit, his skin tingling; and now he suddenly realized, much to his embarrassment that blood had rushed to his crotch and his member was slightly engorged, becoming extended against his hairy thigh.
"You--you boys have got to let me go before this gets anymore out of hand," Bugher gasped. "Before...before long, someone will notice I'm missing...someone will come looking--looking for me, you know...you--you can't keep me here...forever..."
"Not forever Sir," someone said. Bugher saw that it was the boy Manson, a stocky African-American boy who Bugher had caught on his first day as principal tring to let the air out of the tires of his Corolla. "Just long enough to release all that nasty ol' pent up tension that's made you such a pain in our asses these pass few weeks."
"Yeah, Boogity Boo," another boy, Smitts this time chimed in. "Besides, it's Friday, remember? Most of the teaching staff has left to enjoy the weekend, and the other guys are busy sneaking around secretly enjoying all those things you denied them; besides, everyone knows how much you love burning the midnight oil alone in your office late on Fridays."
"But just in case," Collins added, "Billy Winston is sitting outside the door of your office to deal with any inquires should they arise, which I seriously doubt will even be a problem, so just relax."
"You little monsters!" Bugher angrily shouted. "Simmons, do something man! You can't let them continue to torture me like this!"
Simmons, hungrily staring at Burger's fat cock, smiled and said, "Oh, I don't think it's been all torture for you Chucky, judging by how your big piece of pipe has risen between your legs. Nice pipe by the way--I'm gonna just love taking my turn sucking on that big, heavy baby."
"You sick bastard!" Bugher spat. "I would throw up yesterday's breakfast if you come anywhere near my--my privates! You can't force me to go along with this--Lord, you all disgust me!"
Collins reached over and roughly grabbed Bugher's cock and began rolling it between his palms like it was a column of biscuit dough.
"Oh!Oh!Oh!Aggggg!" Bugher moaned, "S-stop that young man! Ohhhhhhhhhh!!"
Collins released it after a few moments and watched it pulsate as it grew harder, but then, after a few moments began to soften a bit.
"Hmmmm," he said, watching the cock droop. "Well, I think the Principal's Little Assistant here just needs some moral support. Joe, go get the other party favor...Mr. Booger here is a little under dressed at the moment."
Simmons, smiling, gave Bugher a wink and went into another room. When he returned, he handed a device to Collins and the other boys snickered.
"Now we're getting somewhere!" Manson said, squeezing his own rather impressive cock. Smitts moved closer to the man, placing his hands over Bugher's eyes so he couldn't see.
"Hey, stop that--remove your hands Mr. Smitts!" Bugher demanded. Then he felt someone else's hands, Collins most likely, fiddling with his penis and testicles, pulling and squeezing, then finally placing something tight over his organ. When Smitts removed his hands, Bugher looked down and saw that a ring had been placed at the base of his penis while his testicles had been pulled down and separated by tight leather straps. It was uncomfortable for a while, but the discomfort was soon replaced by the sensation of blood in his body quickly being forced down and trapped inside his penis which suddenly began to throb and pulsate again.
"Good Lord," Bugher gasped. "W-what is that--that thing?"
Smitts snorted. "I'm not surprised you don't know a cock-ring when you see it," he said. "Man, you do need to be educated!"
"It's to help your Little Assistant express its joy," Collins said, lifting up his tickler. "And so is this."
"Let me do the honors," Manson said, bringing forth his tickler and reaching for Collins' as well.
Collins, making an elaborate bow from his waist and handing over his tickler, gave an exaggerated wave of his arm to Manson who climbed between Bugher's legs from the foot of the bed. He sat on his knees, pressing his legs hard against the insides of the bound man's thighs.
"Remember that detention you gave me a while back because of your stupid tire Mr. Bugher?" Manson asked through a toothy grin. "Well, I forgive ya. I realize that you can't help it that you're just one really uptight ol' white dude, so to show you that there are no hard feelings, I'm going to help drain off some of that pent up tension for ya!" And with that, Manson began caressing the principal's large swollen balls with his tickler.
Bugher's eyes bulged as the most incredibly sensual as well as irritating sensations flowed up from between his thighs. He didn't know what he wanted to do more: scratch his testicles because of the itch caused by the feathers, or give in to the rush from the build-up of a powerful orgasm. When he felt Manson use the other tickler on his penis, he almost lost it.
"Ohhhhh, my Lorddddon't, ohhh--" Bugher groaned ,slowly undulating his hips as waves of pleasure began to cascade over his body. Never before had he ever ever felt anything quite like this. How could these teenagers know about such things? Is this what Simmons ment when he said something about the boys making him see the light? Bugher closed his eyes and gave up tring to resist the boys' sexual assaults because, hell, it was just simply feeling too damn good!
Then Manson reached out and gave Bugher's cock a few hard squeezes before using only one tickler and concentrating on the big bulging head of the principal's cock.
Bugher tossed his head from side to side as he experienced what felt like a thousand tiny fingers roaming all over the head of his penis. He began to raise and lower his body as if he was having intercourse. And this was strangely unique for him because he was taking things slow and leisurely, and taking his time during sex was something he usually didn't do, not that he had that many experiences in his forty-eight years to brag about. Sex never had interested him much; it was something to give in to once or twice every few months when the urge hit him. He had spent much of his time getting his teaching credentials, then after a short stint on the local police force, found himself in Education Administration. But if any of his infrequent sexual encounters of the past had ever felt anything like this, there was no doubt he would have dipped his wick a lot more often!
Bugher raised his hips up high as he felt himself reaching a fierce climax, eagerly anticipating the explosion of pleasure he was about to feel upon ejaculating his sperm into the air. But then, all of a sudden the tickling stopped. He flung open his eyes to see Manson sitting back on his heels grinning at him.
"N-n-no! Don't stop--" Bugher pleaded. "Finish it!"
Collins reached over from the side and flicked Bugher's cock with his finger.
"Oh no, Mr. Booger," he said. "We can't have you popping off just let! We need for everyone to have a chance to play with your big ol' Board Of Education. And my oh my, just look at how nice and big you've grown Sir!"
Bugher was beginning to realize why Collins put that device on his member, which throbbed hotly between his legs. It seemed to keep the blood trapped there while the tightly synched straps stretching his testicle aided in preventing him from ejaculating too soon. And to his horror, he knew that's exactly what the little demons had planned: to repeatedly bring him to the brink, back away, only to then start the cycle all over again!
"Well, breaktime's done," Collins said as Manson climbed off the bed.
"Now it's my turn," Simmons said, reaching into his mouth. He pulled out his dentures and tossed them at Manson as he climbed on the bed.
"Here, hold these," he said as the teen caught them on reflex.
"Oh, YUCK," Manson said, dropping the soggy teeth on the bed. "How many times have I told you not to throw these creepy things at me--what am I, The Keeper Of The Teeth?"
Simmons shot him a hard stare over his shoulder.
"You better pick them up kid," he said in a low voice, "If you know what's good for ya. Go put them in my glass like before--go on."
Manson grunted, and did what he was told, but not before muttering to himself, "Toothless ol' fruit," under his breath.
Simmons crawled towards Bugher and grabbed the man's cock, jerking it up and down fiercely. Copious amounts of pre-cum flowed from the tip to leak over his hairy fingers.
"Nooooooooooohhhhhhgod!" Bugher groaned through gritted teeth as introspection regarding his predicament was swept away by the pleasure from Simmons' pumping fist.
Simmons smiled coldly at the helpless principal and cocked his balding head at an angle, gazing hard at the man writhing on the bed, totally at his mercy.
"Naw, I ain't God, but when I'm done with you Chucky Boy, I'm gonna have you believing that He's standing before you," he said. He lowered his mouth slowly over Bugher's thick cock, swallowing it all the way down to the base, burying his nose deep in Bugher's pubic hair, while gently massaging the principal's balls, large and bulging from the build-up of cum from within.
Bugher's mouth dropped open and his eyes flickered as Simmons gummed his way up and down the huge organ, nipping at the stalk, then pulling up to dart and swish his tongue over the head, while mildly biting below the mushroom cap.
Bugher was screaming inside his head from the intoxicating torture. Unbelievably intense sexual pleasure ravaged the bound principal's senses, pushing him far beyond anything he had ever experienced before in his life. Bugher on the one hand wanted nothing more than for the sucking and nibbling to stop so he could gather his wits together; and yet, on the other hand, like some starving addict, he craved for more. Simmons eagerly complied with Bugher's unspoken demands, his spit mixing with Bugher's heavy flow of pre-cum as he completely engulfed the throbbing cock with his mouth, swishing his tongue all over the steel-hard organ for long, long minutes, using slow, continuous, circular motion around the huge cock.
Saliva trickled from the corners of Bugher's mouth, his head thrown back against the pillows. He found himself racing yet again towards a climax as total release was just within reach. But it wasn't ment to be, because once again, relief was snatched away from him as Simmons suddenly pulled back off his penis, giving the head one final hard suck and tongue swirl, darting it in and out of the piss slit several times before releasing the organ to pound big and hard in the air.
"NOOOOOOOO!!" Bugher wailed in frustration. "Y-You can't stop now for christsake!!"
Simmons, scooting back off the bed, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and after Manson handed him the glass containing his dentures, flashed his fake pearly whites at the Bugher.
"Oh, I'd like to bring you off there bossman, drink down all that sweet principal cum just boiling down there in those big, juicy balls of yours...but we all agreed to let someone else have the honors, so patience big fella, patience!"
Bugher thrashed angrily upon the bed, futilely struggling against his restaints.He was fully aware of the heavy weight down below his belly as he moved about the bed and it felt as if he had a mammoth sequoia rising up from between his widely spread legs. Through his tears of misery and frustration, he glanced down at himself to see his penis, almost purple from so much blood, throbbing huge and hard. He had never seen himself so big before--never realized he could even sprout an erection this massive, and despite the severity of his situation, found himself impressed by the grand length and girth of his towering erection and concluded that he actually found being bound to a bed and forced to endure endless sexual stimulation from the teenagers was beginning to disgust him less and less. At the same time it excited him to libidinous heights beyond his wildest imagination which, in all honesty, had been pretty tame when it came to sex.
And Simmons, Bugher thought to himself--his monstrously delicious mouth was almost a lethal weapon! It had only taken the boys a few hours to bring him to this state, a state of mind where if they had wanted to they, they could have gotten him to promise anything, confess to anything, just so long as they continued to stimulate him so masterfully. He knew this to be utter madness, but oh, what sweet, sweet madness it was and he was now willing than ever to continue his downward spiral into the boys' savagely beautiful sex-filled hell--now...if only the little torturers would just let him ejaculate for christsake!
"Ok gentlemen," Bugher soon heard Collins say through his sex-fueled haze, "Let's bring this baby home. Line up on each side of the bed...good. Now, we're going to jack him off, but not let him cum--not yet. We've got to save that love juice for the grand finale. So, Jake you go first--short strokes now, nothing fancy; then you go next Willie, followed by Dave, Andy, Forrest, Clark, Randy, Joe, me and then finally, our initiate Sly will have the honor of making Booger shoot his wad! So, it's agreed? Good! Then let's pump this guy up!"
And as Jake, a fat-faced red headed kid with a very knowledgeable hand, firmly grasped the principal's raging hard-on, Bugher felt reality slip swiftly away as the boy's fist slid up and down his greasy pole.
"Ohohohohohooooooooooooooooooooooh," Bugher moaned as the teen fisted his penis. The others soon got their chance, hardly missing a stroke as one hand was replaced by another, then another and then another still, all varying in size and grip strength(one grip stronger than the others--Simmons, no doubt), each pumping the engorged cock for several long minutes before giving up their position to the next waiting hand.
"Uhmmmmmmmmmmore...more...more, ohhhhhhyessss!" Bugher exclaimed over the loud squishy noises, a small inquiry glowing hotly in the deep recesses of his mind, a question on just where in heaven's name did these boys acquire such potent knowledge of sex and on how to pleasure someone to this degree? They put what little skills he possessed in such matters to shame--heck, he had to believe not even the adults he associated with had such talents...and yet these teenage boys had completely broken him!
"Ohhmygosh...I-I don't believe it feels so--so--soooooooohhOh!Oh!Oh--"
"Feels kinda all right, eh Mr. Booger?" The question was asked by Collins, But Bugher was almost too far gone to be aware of anything other than the pure pleasure radiating from his erection to envelop his entire body.
"Now, for the piece de resistance," the teen continued. "Young Sylvester Rollins, if you would be so kind as to step up to the plate and do your class proud!"
Bugher felt two small hands begin rapidly pumping his penis and heard a shy voice say: "You want us to face our problems like adults, so I'm going to use all I've learned to make you cum like you've never cum before Mr. Bugher--just like a real man!"
Then, while the hands quickly pumped away, a small mouth sucked hard on the head of Bugher's cock like it was a pop-sicle.
"Ohhhh!Ohhhh!Ohhhh!Ohhhh!"
Suddenly, all the others crowded in, watching Sly hungrily suck on Burgher's straining cock. Collins reached over and tugged at the leather straps, releasing the pressure and the tight grip on Bugher's bulging ball sac. The group then began to chant: "Cum! Cum! Cum! Cum!" while pounding their fists into their palms in a syncopated rhythm creating a steady back-beat for their chant.
"Cum! Cum! Cum! Cum!"
"Ohh! Ohh! Ohh! Ohh!"
"Cum! Cum! Cum! Cum!"
"Ohh! Ohh! Ohh! Ohh!"
"Cum! Cum! Cum! Cum!"
"Oooohooohoommmmmmmmmm! Mmmmmmm! Mmmmooohhughoh! Oh! Yessss! Yessss! Goddammmmmmooooh! Cheese and rice--I'M FUCKINGCUMMMMMINGGGGG!!!!!!"
And just as Sylvester moved his mouth from off of the mushroom cap, Bugher went rigid and thrust his hips high into the air as a huge stream of milky white cum exploded up into the air. Bugher thrust again and again while Sly, still pumping the cock, aimed it towards Bugher's chest as volley after volley of thick, heavy cream shot like a gusher from the principal's powerful pump to land on his chest, neck and face in ropes of sticky goo.
Finally, after the last of the eruptions tapered off to a modest flow dripping from the head of his penis, a loud, fulfilled sigh of contentment ushered from Bugher's lips as he leisurely stretched back upon the bed, all of his pent up tension gone, his eyes unfocused and slightly crossed beneath his hooded lids. It was obvious that Bugher had enjoyed the treatment and the boys were greeted with a most unusual sight as they all stared at the exhausted man relaxing against his restraints on the bed. Upon Principal Bugher's sweat streaked, craggy middle-aged face was something none of the boys at Wellington had seen in all the weeks the man had been in charge of them--it was a smile! But this was not just any ordinary smile, but one which stretched from ear to ear, a warm, happy smile slightly parted to allow just a sliver of enamel, the gleam from his bright,straight white teeth to show through.
Collins moved in close to Bugher's face. He wiped beads of sweat from the man's brow with his thumb and whispering into the Principal's hairy ear lobe said: "That was pretty good for the first go around, but you realize that we have until Sunday afternoon available to us, so Principal Booger, what do you say--how about another session?"
THE END